


Finding Hope

by Squid_Ink



Series: The Eagle and the Cross [14]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Gist and Monro are mentioned, Hell and High Water, Okay I'll stop with the Hope puns, Shay finds Hope, Shay kills Hope, The Bromance is strong between Shay and Haytham, tragic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6061080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid_Ink/pseuds/Squid_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft</p><p> </p><p>Trying out writing flashbacks, hoped it worked.</p><p>There go the lame "Hope" puns, hahaha. The Bromance is strong between Shay and Haytham. Real strong. I like Hope and Shay together, I think they make a cute couple. I did write a bit where Haytham goes home and class Ziio, but Connor answers the phone instead. I may add it when I edit this after I get back from the movies. My brother and I are going to see Deadpool.</p><p>Anyway, this is set in Hell and High Water Universe. This expands Shay's background a bit.</p><p>Save an author; leave a review!</p><p>-Nemo</p></blockquote>





	Finding Hope

Some random song buzzed on the radio, several car horns honked somewhere on the street, the sound drifting through the window; a siren whined, and a cat yowled in the ally. White nose, familiar, mind numbing… comforting. He brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaled, filling his lungs with noxious smoke, he held his breath for five seconds before exhaling a plume of foul smelling silver that billowed around his head.

He reached for the nightstand beside his bed, grabbing the brown glass bottle, liquid sloshing around. He brought it to his lips, sucking at the contents within; he had long stopped feeling the burn of the alcohol down his throat.

Hope kissed his throat as they lay in bed together. Shay chuckled sleepily, fingers playing with the wedding band on her slim finger. They were somewhere in the former Soviet Bloc nations, on some job for the US government, their target: a former KGB agent that was now a major player in a highly complex organized crime syndicate. Their target's job was managing the human trafficking ring that the syndicate ran. "I'm pregnant," Hope whispered, tracing the cross tattoo on his heart, "due in February."

"Really?" Shay asked, shifting on the crummy bed in the hotel room they were staying in. The walls had peeling white paint, cracks from water damage in the ceiling and the TV in the room dated back to the 50's and only picked up two channels, projecting them in black and white. Shay cupped Hope's face, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb. He felt a smile tug at his lips.

Hope nodded, before bursting into a grin, laughter bubbling from her throat. "I am!"

"This is… this is incredible!" Shay laughed, pulling her close and kissing her. "We better get a room ready once we get back to the States for the baby then."

"You need to finish your law degree," Hope reminded him with a tap on his nose. He playing tried to bite her fingertip. "I'll get some IT job once this is all over."

"Agreed," Shay murmured, running his fingers through her hair. He loved the strawberry scent of her shampoo. "Normal jobs and normal lives."

"I'll miss the pay though," Hope sighed, snuggling close to Shay and resting her head in the crook of his neck. "Pay's good."

"I could continue," Shay suggested with no real seriousness behind the statement. Hope arched a brow. He flashed a smile and kissed her forehead. "Just a suggestion." He didn't want to, he grew up in foster care after his parents died and he didn't want to thrust that life upon his child. Hope scowled at him and smacked his chest, his laughter bubbled up out of his throat.

Shay sighed, setting the bottle down before rubbing his throat. Someone was knocking on his door. He should get up and answer it, but he didn't want to. A dog barked in the ally. "Fuck off!" Shay shouted at the door, before grabbing the spare pillow and covering his face with it. The plain white walls of his apartment vanished from view. He wondered if he could hold the pillow in place long enough to suffocate himself. The knocker was persistent. "I said, fuck off, asshole!" Shay pulled the pillow off his face and stubbed out his cigarette.

The knocking didn't cease. Shay groaned as he hauled himself out of bed, and slipped into a pair of jeans with a hole in one knee. He shuffled his way through the old empty pizza boxes on the floor to the door. "Don't ya understand English?" Shay snapped at whomever was at the door as eh yanked it open. He was shocked to see Haytham Kenway there, dressed in a polo shirt and slacks, fist poised to knock again. Shay had only recently started working at Temple Law Firm. He wondered what Haytham was doing at his apartment, though a better question was how Haytham _found_ his apartment. "What do you want?"

Haytham scowled. "You weren't at the office," he stated, "why?"

Shay shrugged. "I don't have to answer to you," Shay growled and went to close the door, but Haytham shoved his foot into the space between door and frame.

"Shay, I'm your boss! I'm partner, course you have to answer to me!"

"Screw you," Shay growled, trying to close the door again. Why couldn't Haytham understand that when May rolls around he wanted to be left alone?

Haytham sighed trying o worm his way into his apartment. "Shay, if you'd just tell me what's going on, I could—"

"What? Help? Yeah, fuck you Haytham! Fuck you. You have no god damn idea about what I'm going through! You should've just given me the vacation time I asked for!" Shay yelled. "Don't go presuming you can help me!" Shay reached out and shoved Haytham way from his door. "Fuck off, Haytham!" Shay slammed the door. He ignored Haytham's shouts and knocks as he went to the radio, plugging in his iPod and turning it to Slayer, cranking the volume up. Let the neighbours file a noise complaint, he didn't care. He grabbed his knife, a large sleek thing, before sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

The carpet smelled of stale smoke and sweat. He thumbed the blade, before pressing the tip into the pad of this thumb, watching blood well up.

Liam's blood covered his hands. The mission had gone terribly, horribly wrong. It was a set-up, a brilliantly executed gambit that had cost Monro and Gist their lives. Now Liam was bleeding out as Shay tried to get him to safety. "Leave me," Liam forced out, bloody spit oozing out of his mouth. "I'm not gonna make it."

"Stop talking, Liam," Shay growled, blinking blood out of his right eye, where he sported a nasty cut. He hoped Hope was okay, she should be, being their eyes and ears, tucked away in the hotel room with all her computers and tech gear. Their enemies shouldn't be able to back-trace the signal to her location She should be safe… no, she _is_ safe. "Hope's pregnant," Shay whispered, dragging Liam along. "I'm gonna be a dad. Naming you godfather, Liam, you better survive bastard."

"Shay," Liam breathed. Shay ducked behind a dumpster. He glanced at the wound in Liam's side and noted the unearthly paleness of Liam's face. "I'm cold," Liam sighed.

"Stay with me Liam!" Shay hissed, patting Liam's cheek "Don't you want to see your godchild? _Live damn you!_ "

"Shay…" Liam sighed, "go… go to Hope…"

"I'm not leaving you!" Shay shouted, he felt tears well up in his eyes. He heard rough Slavic sounding words somewhere in the distance. "I'm not…"

"Shay… your wife…" Liam began, but breathed his last. Shay bit his trembling lip, before closing Liam's eyes. His friend… his brother… was dead. There was still a chance Hope was safe, he could still come out this with one person he cared about still breathing; the weight of his gun in his hand familiar and coldly comforting as he stood, running towards the hotel.

It wasn't a good sign when he saw the door to his hotel room ajar, nor when he heard Hope's high pitched scream followed by a sob. He cocked his pistol, before kicking the door open. "Mr. Cormac, pleasure you could join us," a bald man said, his words coated with a heavy Russian accent. Shay scowled, pointing his gun at the bald man's chest.

"Let her go!" Shay shouted, only to feel his blood run cold at the feeling of a muzzle pressed against his skull.

"I'd drop the gun and get on your knees, if I were you," the bald man said, pulling out his own gun and gesturing to the floor. Shay dropped his weapon, kicking it away and went to his knees, hands held up. That's when he noticed Hope, suspended from the ceiling by her wrists, the front of her shirt covered in blood

Shay stared at his blood, Slayer screaming at the edges of his consciousness. He glanced at his wrists, remembering some gloomy kid at the foster home telling him you cut horizontally for attention, vertically for suicide. Shay ground his teeth together, suicide was an unholy sin, his soul would never know the joys of Heaven, only the agony of Hell. "I'm already going to Hell," Shay muttered, pressing the knife to his wrist.

He'd be with Hope and Liam, everyone he had ever lost. How many years had it been since Hope's death? He lost count, since most of the time he could hold it together, pretend to be normal, that he'd moved on from his losses. They didn't know about the nightmares, how he had to have the TV, radio and window open to drown out the demons in his head, especially during May. Even if they did know, nobody could help. The pills stopped working long ago as did the booze. He knew a drug dealer, maybe he should talk to him. No, sooner or later, those drugs won't keep the monsters in his head silent. Better just to end it all. Shay slowly pressed the knife into his wrists. A bang sounded.

 _Bang!_ The bald Russian fired his gun into the ceiling to silence Hope's whimpers. Another thug entered the room and said something in Russian to the bald man, who gave a curt nod. "I ask you questions. You answer questions truthfully, pretty lady doesn't get hurt. You answer questions with lies, pretty gets hurt _ponimayu_?"

"Don't tell him anything Shay!" Hope shouted, only to whimper when another thug hit her.

"Let her go!" Shay shouted, a thug yanked him back to his knees when he tried to get up. The Russian frowned.

"Who is she to you? Hooker?"

"My wife," Shay snapped, rigid with fear, the muzzle hadn't left his temple. "Let her go."

"It is interesting you bring wife. Most men leave wife at home. Why bring wife?"

"Fuck you!" Shay spat. The Russian nodded, and one of his thugs cut Hope along her collarbone. Shay had to give Hope credit for not crying out.

"Who are you working for?" the bald man asked.

"Your mother," Shay said. The bald man slapped him across the face and Hope got another cut.

"I ask again, who are you working for?"

"Your sister had a lovely ass," Shay forced out, glowering at the man. The Russian hit him again, yelling at him in Russian, and with each blow Shay received a minion cut Hope.

"Shay," Hope whispered. Shay looked up to see his wife, bleeding from countless cuts. "I love you."

"Hope," Shay breathed, flinching when the thug took the gun from his temple. The bald Russian pressed his gun into Shay's hand, his larger one covering Shay's.

"Who are you working for!" he shouted into Shay's ear. Shay flinched, trying to get away from him, but unable to. Shay looked at Hope. She gave him a weak smile.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. The Russian snarled, and forced Shay to pull the trigger. The gun went off with a bang.

Shay turned his attention to the source of the bang, noticing that Haytham had busted his door down and looking disheveled. Haytham rushed over and yanked the knife out fo Shay's hand. "What the bloody hell, Shay?" Haytham asked. Shay stared into Haytham's grey eyes, not really seeing the man in front of him.

"Let me die, Haytham… please," Shay whispered. Haytham knelt down, grabbed Shay's head and pressed their foreheads together.

"No Shay no. I'm not giving up on you, never ever. You may be a disrespectful shit, but you're my disrespectful shit, you understand me? Don't kill yourself!" Haytham hissed, squeezing Shay's face.

Shay felt the tears on his cheeks and then he was sobbing, great heaving sobs. "Haytham… I killed her… I killed her! We were going to have a baby, a normal life… but I killed her!" Shay sobbed. "I killed my wife. _I killed Hope!_ " Shay leaned forward, until head rested on Haytham's shoulder. He howled, tears cascading down his cheeks, muttering over and over again: _I killed her, I killed her!_

Haytham didn't say anything, simply wrapped his arms around Shay and rocked back and forth making shushing sounds. "I know a really good PTSD councilor, set you up with an appointment… get your life back in order. You can heal from this Shay," Haytham whispered, and pressed his cheek against Shay's head. "You can heal."

Shay looked up at Haytham, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"How?" he asked, voice soft and broken.

"By letting others help you," Haytham whispered. "I'm here for you, Shay. You can always talk to me."

"Thank you, Haytham," Shay breathed. "Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
>  
> 
> Trying out writing flashbacks, hoped it worked.
> 
> There go the lame "Hope" puns, hahaha. The Bromance is strong between Shay and Haytham. Real strong. I like Hope and Shay together, I think they make a cute couple. I did write a bit where Haytham goes home and class Ziio, but Connor answers the phone instead. I may add it when I edit this after I get back from the movies. My brother and I are going to see Deadpool.
> 
> Anyway, this is set in Hell and High Water Universe. This expands Shay's background a bit.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!
> 
> -Nemo


End file.
